FUNNY — David Sedaris

It’s not hard to love David Sedaris. The author and regular contributor to the New Yorkerand NPR’s This American Life is doing just the kind of irritable, sharp-tongued snark the world seems to need right now. If you’re a fan, you know this — and you can’t wait to tell everyone you meet. But if you’re on the fence about Sedaris or his upcoming stop at The Fox, we’re here as believers (we’ve name-dropped him something like eight times in recent years) with some of his best quips.

On undecided voters:

To put them in perspective, I think of being on an airplane. The flight attendant comes down the aisle with her food cart and, eventually, parks it beside my seat. “Can I interest you in the chicken?” she asks. “Or would you prefer the platter of shit with bits of broken glass in it?”

To be undecided in this election is to pause for a moment and then ask how the chicken is cooked. “Undecided,” 2008

On a TV appearance after having stitches in his gums:

It was like having a mouthful of spiders — spooky, but it gave me something to talk about on TV, and for that I was grateful. “In the Waiting Room,” 2006

On barn owls:

Those are the ones with spooky white faces, like satellite dishes with eyes. “Understanding Owls,” 2012

On writing about his family:

In my mind, I’m like a friendly junkman building things from the little pieces of scrap I find here and there. But my family started to see things differently. Their personal lives are the so-called pieces of scrap I so casually pick up. And they’re sick of it. “Repeat After Me,” 2004

On his sister:

My sister’s the type who religiously watches the fear segments of her local eyewitness news broadcasts. Retaining nothing but the headline. She remembers that applesauce can kill you, but forgets that in order to die you have to inject it directly into your bloodstream. “Repeat After Me,” 2004